


Festis Bei Umo Canavarum (You Will Be the Death of Me)

by SlySilver



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8917219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySilver/pseuds/SlySilver
Summary: The Kirkwall crew's paths all seem to converge at the Inquisition, and they find themselves fighting a battle they never wanted anything to do with again.Basically, Fenders/Doribull with polyamory and the Kirkwall crew joins the Inquisition. This summary is terrible and I apologize.





	1. Running Blind

For days Fenris had been on Anders' trail. Trying to catch up to him before his templar pursuers. The mage was good at evading them, but considering how close there were to catching up to Fenris, his chance of escaping was lowered. It had been two days since Fenris had stopped to rest. He knew he was drawing closer to the mage. As he ran along the trail feeling his strength draining, but the templars were gaining on him. He paused for a moment, looking behind him. In the distance there was a small fire. They had set camp. Fenris leaned against a tree breathing heavy. He silently cursed himself for going along on this fool's errand, but took a few hours to rest. Dawn came much too quickly. His feet ached as he rose to them, following the path he believed Anders to be running down. He moved slower than he'd like to be. However, this allowed an elf to catch him.

“You there! Are you named Fenris?” The elf stopped in his tracks. He turned to face the elven scout.

“I am.” She nodded and pulled a missive from her jacket.

“Varric Tethras sent me to find you," she tore open the missve, and started to read aloud, "Fenris, Hawke arrived at Skyhold. Haven't heard from Anders or Isabela. I am extending you a formal offer to join the Inquisition. I'm not sure it's really your thing, but it's an offer. We're at Skyhold the elf --myself-- will guide you there if you wish. Stay safe out there." 

"Can you get him a response, quickly?” Fenris asked.

“Skyhold is about a two day journey, what's the message?”

  
“Tell him I'm tracking Anders. The templars are near catching him. I will try to catch up to him and find my way to Skyhold. Hawke should try to help get him to safety if she is able. Please hurry.”

  
“Right away!” The elf ran back the way she came, and Fenris turned his attention back to the hunt, silently praying Hawke came to his aide.

Days passed. Fenris wasn't sure if he was any closer to catching up to Anders. He was in fact rather convinced he'd lost the trail entirely. On the plus side, the templars had followed him. So if he wasn't on Anders trail anymore, neither were they. On the downside, they would soon catch up to Fenris. He may not be a mage, but his lyrium markings were enough to make them hostile toward him. A raven flew overhead. Fenris watched as it circled, finally landing beside him. It carried a note. Fenris took it, not confident in his reading skills. He could only make out the words 'mage' 'safe' and 'Hawke'. 

Fenris groaned. He was pretty convinced had unwittingly acted as a decoy. Now he knew there was only one option. He would have to slaughter the templars before he could go to Skyhold. There was no way he could outrun them at this point, especially since he had no idea where it was relative to his location. Fenris knew Redcliffe was to the West, but it was a few days journey there. So he sat, waiting. He made himself a camp, trying to make it obvious for the templars. They caught up to him on the evening of the second day. They asked no questions. They only set his tent on fire, causing him to jolt from his bedroll. He grabbed his sword and tore out of the tent, the lyrium in his skin igniting as he jumped in to fight. This was a mistake. He expected a band of four, maybe six templars. Instead he was greeted by a dozen. Quickly cutting down two, he started to run, the fire now spreading to the trees.

“The elf went for the mountains! Follow him!” Fenris sprinted, his bare feet now hitting snow. The cold alone was enough to keep him moving. His weakened state made him slow. Templars were almost on him. He turned, facing four men. With all of his remaining strength, he started speaking slowly in Tevene, lyrium marks slowly starting to glow as the templars trudged through the snow toward him.

“Na via lerno victoria,” he said to himself. Silently, he swung his sword, one templar down. Shoulder to a weak point on the archer, rolling down the hill he goes. Second archer lands a shot to the arm. Fenris pulls out the arrow and swings his sword one handed toward his other attacker. Shield bash to sword arm. The Sword of Mercy lands gracefully in the snow. Fenris' eyes narrow. He shoves his hand into the attacker's chest, and pulls his heart through. The next templar slashes at his chest. Breastplate deflects. Next hit he isn't so lucky, deep gash to the leg. Fenris falls crying out in pain. He pulls himself back to his feet, dashing backwards to avoid another hit. He picks up his sword, and with his good arm, stabs him through the gap in his armor. The archer landed one last shot, just below his heart. He pulled it out and started to move toward the group of templars. But, they were on the retreat. Fenris limped up the side of the mountain, his sword held limply at his side. He assessed the damage as he slowly walked. Left leg was almost useless, barely keeping him upright, right arm hanging at his side, blood flowing from his shoulder. The chest wound was bleeding terribly. Fenris was certain he was done for, bloody, beaten and broken on the side of the mountain. He collapsed in the snow, blood dripping from his chest, staining the pure white ground in front of him. He brought a hand to the wound.

“Kaffas,” he swore as he stared up at the clear skies.

“ _So this is where I die...”_ His eyes closed, shallow breaths still drawing from his lips.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You and your bright ideas Bull, now we're lost in the snow! You know how I hate the cold!” Dorian complained. Iron Bull only laughed.  
“I thought you could use the walk, stuck up in your library most days.”

“Well it was lovely until you lost site of the hold. And--” Dorian saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned fast, seeing an elf lying in the bloodstained snow.

“Bull! Stop! There's an elf in the snow,” Dorian said stomping through the drift starting to surround the injured elf. He knelt to his side and gently rolled him onto his back. A hand darted to his neck, checking for a pulse. Dorian let out a sigh of relief as he felt shallow breaths from the elf, a slow beat of his heart from his neck.

“Can you carry him? We need to make a fire immediately. I think I can tend to his wounds,” Dorian spoke very fast. Iron Bull wordlessly lifted the elf into his arms and they quickly found a spot to set up shelter. Dorian rolled out a bedroll, Bull laying the elf gently on it. He started a fire while Dorian gently removed the breastplate the elf was wearing. It was only now that he noticed the strange markings on his body, and examined his face. There was something vaguely familiar about him. Dorian brushed this thought aside and started healing the large wound on the elf's chest, mending the flesh together with magic. Iron Bull sat beside Dorian as the fire started to roar.

“Will he be all right?”

“He's still breathing, and I've mended the worst of his wounds. We may not be able to move him for a while, but yes, he should recover.” Iron Bull nodded and helped Dorian bandage the rest of the elf's injuries. He wrapped the mage in a blanket and the two sat waiting for the elf to wake up. As night began to fall, the elf stirred. Dorian poked the fire, seeing the elf out of the corner of his eye. He started to sit up slowly, wincing at the pain. Dorian gently pushed him back down to the bedroll.

“Don't get up, you're quite injured. We found you in the snow several hours ago.”  
“I... I'm alive?” he asked.

“Yes, had we not found you, you would have froze to death. My name is Dorian. This is Iron Bull,” Dorian said looking over the elf. It was at this moment that he recognize him. The bright green eyes gave him away immediately despite his silver hair, instead of black as Dorian remembered him.

“Leto?” Dorian asked. The elf started to scramble backwards. Iron Bull caught him.

“You know this elf?” He asked.

“Leto, do you not remember me? I knew you in Minrathous as a teenager... How on earth did you get here?”

“I... you're a magister,” his eyes and skin began to glow. Iron Bull restrained the elf as gently as he could. It wasn't difficult, he had little energy to spare.

“We're with the Inquisition. He's not a magister any more than I am,” Iron Bull assured the elf. He didn't seem convinced.

“Keep that filthy _mage_ away from me!” He tried to stand and storm off, but Iron Bull wasn't having it.

“That filthy mage mended your wounds so you didn't bleed out on the side of a mountain. If you don't relax you're going to injure yourself further. Is Dorian correct? Your name is Leto?” Iron Bull's voice was even and calm, while Dorian slowly distanced himself from the elf.

“I... It was. But not... not anymore. You may call me Fenris.”  
“Fenris. You should get some more rest.”

“I... Shanedan, Iron Bull.” The Qunari laughed.

“Just sleep elf.”

Dorian sat by the fire, shivering, as Fenris fell back to sleep. Iron Bull wrapped a blanket around him.

“Will we be able to move him by morning?”

“Probably. Hawke should still be at Skyhold and Fenris can go with her,” Dorian responded. He looked over the elf. His eyes closed, he recalled what he'd looked like when he had been known as Leto. Long raven hair, tied back. The same piercing green eyes, the same olive-toned skin. Dorian sighed heavily seeing the markings carved into his skin.

“What's wrong Dorian?”  
“I was mad at him for years. Now I see him again, and he's angry that I'm a mage.”  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“No. I don't think it would help.” Dorian stared into the fire, his heart heavy. Iron Bull didn't press the issue.

 

 

 


	2. Memories of Leto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken some liberties with Dorian and Fenris' history. But both of them have poorly documented time in Tevinter. Otherwise, thank you so much to everyone who read, commented and bookmarked seemingly almost immediately after posting!

_Dorian had just been taken in by Alexius, once again being forced to hide his sexuality to try to become a respectable mage. He was working with Danarius on runecrafting theories in Minrathous. It was one day in Danarius' estate, where Dorian first laid eyes on Leto. He was sitting with Felix in the library, the mages hard at work, when an elf stripped to the waist was carrying in boxes of books and scrolls walked through the room. It was the dead of summer, Dorian himself was cursing the heavy robes everyone insisted were fashionable. He stopped mid sentence when he saw Leto, staring as he walked back out the door._  
_“Dorian... you're staring...” Felix scolded lightly. Dorian laughed._  
_“Did you see him? I don't care what Alexius says, I'm going to talk to him.” He got out of his chair and marched toward the door the elf had, seeing him at the end of the hall. He quickened his pace walking alongside the handsome elf._  
_“Hello, my name is Dorian, has anyone ever told you how devastatingly handsome you are?” The elf blushed and quickly hurried away. Dorian sighed and returned to the study._  
_“Shot down already Dorian?” Felix teased. Dorian gave a noncommittal hand-wave and returned to his work._  
_As the sun started to set, Felix retired. Dorian remained working by candlelight. The same elf returned with a tray of tea and food for him._  
_“I... apologize. About earlier. I'm Leto.”_  
_“That's quite a lovely name. Why is such a vision of beauty working for someone like Danarius?”_  
_“I've heard he has an experiment and is looking for a strong subject. He's offering to give the victor of his tourney any boon they desire.”_  
_“Seeking fame and fortune as a slave are we?” Leto's eyes narrowed._  
_“I am the strongest. I will win, and I will free my mother and sister.”_  
Dorian remembered the determination in those bright green eyes.  
“You've been staring into that fire for hours now Dorian.”  
“The last time I spoke to him I yelled at him.” Iron Bull remained silent.  
“I told him he was a fool for going through with it. Having lyrium embedded in your skin was not worth his family's freedom.”  
“Wait, you're telling me that shit is Lyrium? I thought it was that shit Dalish has on her face.”  
“It's... a similar process. Although I imagine it'd be much more painful.”  
“So you tried to talk him out of it.”  
“Failed, obviously. He and Danarius vanished. When Danarius returned, Leto was wasn't with him. But I never pursued what happened further.”  
“So you never connected that the warrior called the lyrium ghost could have possibly been your elf friend who had lyrium burned into his skin?” Iron Bull asked. Dorian sighed and pinched his nose.  
“I haven't thought about Leto in years. We only knew each other for a short time.”  
“As upset as you've been, I'd say he's pretty important to you anyway.”  
“I was... infatuated.” Iron Bull laughed.  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I do hate it when you say that. But fine, I'll tell you what happened.”  
_Dorian started seeing more of Leto. Subtle flirting, innuendo, side glances and not so accidental touches. It excited Dorian and he spent time seeking the skilled elf’s company. He also started hearing more about this tournament and the people competing in it. As Dorian and Leto grew closer, the mage began to worry._  
_“Leto... have you seen these slaves? There's a woman who supposedly ripped off a man's arms to protect her previous master.”_  
_“I am more skilled that you know Dorian.”_  
_“Of that I have no doubt. Nonetheless, I'm worried about you.” Leto's eyes met Dorian's._  
_“I'm just a slave Dorian. If I win this, I can free my family and become something more powerful.”_  
_“He wants to burn lyrium into your skin. It could kill you. It probably will kill you.”_  
_“Why do you care so much if I die?” Leto asked._  
_“Because I like you Leto! You're throwing your life away for nothing but the perverse curiosity of a magister!”_  
_“As if your curiosity is so pure!” Dorian was taken aback. His nostrils flared._  
_“Perhaps I have some interest in you. But I'd never act on such a thing without your consent. I'm not a monster.”_  
_“That's what they all say,” Leto replied storming out. Dorian slammed his fists on the table._  
_“Dorian?” Felix asked walking into his room._  
_“Felix. I apologize.”_  
_“Don't apologize Dorian. What happened?”_  
_“It's nothing.”_  
_“You know you can't lie to me Dorian. It's Leto isn't it?” Felix asked in a sympathetic tone. Dorian sighed._  
_“He got rather upset at me. And I him.”_  
_“Just go apologize to him. I've seen the way he looks at you. He feels something for you.”_  
_“Alright you've convinced me. Could you get me a bottle of good wine while I compose myself?”_  
_Dorian searched the estate for Leto. He found him in the training yard throwing daggers at targets. Leto had more freedom than most slaves. For now._  
_“Leto.”_  
_“I'm not in the mood Dorian,” He replied, avoiding Dorian's eyes and throwing another dagger._  
_“I'm staying here until you talk to me Leto.”_  
_“What do you want?” Dorian opened the bottle of wine and drank straight from it. He handed it to Leto._  
_“You think I want to hurt you.”_  
_“Danarius does. My previous master did. Why would you be any different?”_  
_“I thought you trusted me.” Leto looked to his feet._  
_“I want to trust you Dorian but you're a magister.” Dorian took the bottle back from him._  
_“Magister or not, I'm falling in love with you. And I don't want to see you get hurt,” Dorian admitted. He threw his head back downing a large gulp of wine. Leto’s eyes met his as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve._  
_“I want this Dorian. I want to be strong.”_  
_“You could die.”_  
_“We could all die any minute of any number of things.”_  
_“That doesn't mean you should risk your life so foolishly,” Dorian replied. Leto sighed._  
_“You'll never understand Dorian. You grew up with power, you don't need to become strong, you already are.” Dorian gently reached for Leto’s hand. Leto laced his fingers with Dorian's._  
_“I could ask my father to purchase you to be my bodyguard. I could--”_  
_“Your father knows of your tastes Dorian and he would not allow it. You've told me so. I'll be fine. On the off chance that I do die though, would you do something for me?” Leto asked._  
_“Anything.” The elf blushed, the tips of his ears even going slightly red._  
_“I will trust you. And I… I want you to take me. So even living a life as slave to Danarius forever… I'll have the memory of willingly giving my body to you.” Dorian's face fell as he looked to see tears in Leto’s eyes._  
_“Leto… I can't do that to you.”_  
_“I'm asking Dorian. The tourney is in two weeks. If you decide you want to…” Dorian looked over the elf. He looked so small. His shoulders narrowed, staring at his feet. The mage gently pushed his chin up, looking the elf in the eyes._  
_“I make no promises on more, but I will give you this.” Dorian’s eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to Leto’s. The elf’s arms wrapped around his neck. He gently cupped Leto’s cheek, slowly pulling back. The elf’s lips curved into a crooked smile._  
“So what happened? You said the last time you spoke you yelled at him,” Iron Bull said. Dorian nodded.  
“Yes. I did. What he asked wasn't something I was comfortable doing, knowing how Danarius treated him. So I did my best…”  
_Dorian quietly snuck Leto into his room and drew the curtains shut. He kissed him as gently as he could, helping him out of his clothes. Dorian also shed his robes. He gently took both their cocks in his hand. As he stroked them together, he kissed every inch of Leto’s face. They crashed onto Dorian's bed, legs intertwined as they thrusted against each other's hips. They came together, Dorian's lips on Leto’s neck. As they lie in the dark, Dorian's fingers gently ran through Leto’s long dark hair._  
_“Are.. are you afraid of having real sex with me?” Leto asked. Dorian squeezed Leto tightly, planting a gentle kiss on his lips._  
_“That was real, amatus. I wanted you to feel loved and equal with me.”_  
_They lay there for as long as they dared that night._  
“The next morning was the tournament. He killed a dozen other slaves.”  
“That's pretty rough.”  
“He had already lost so much innocence. But he'd never taken a life. The look in his eyes after the first kill… And by the last one… he was expressionless. Went from compassionate loving Leto to cold blooded killer.”  
_With the tourney won, his mother and sister freed, Leto had one last request._  
_“I'd like to say goodbye to Dorian master,” Leto said. Danarius laughed._  
_“Very well. You may go see him. We begin the ritual at sundown.”_  
_Leto found Dorian in the study, a pile of books surrounding him._  
_“I… I won. Dorian.”_  
_“I know. I was there.”_  
_“I… I have to go tonight. I don't know if we'll see each other again…” Leto looked down. Dorian sighed._  
_“You killed them Leto.”_  
_“I had to.”_  
_“They had families too. I thought you were better than this.” Leto’s eyes lit up as he hauled Dorian to his feet shoving him against the wall._  
_“Have you ever been beaten mage? Wiped? Have you ever watched your sister be violated and couldn't Interfere because_ he owned her _? Have you ever watched your friends being sacrifice for a blood ritual?” Dorian did not respond. Leto struck him across the face._  
_“Answer me mage!”_  
_“No I haven't.” Leto let him down._  
_“Then you can't possibly understand what I have been through. I trusted you Dorian! I thought… I thought…” he began to cry._  
_“Leto… I…”_  
_“Never mind. I was a fool to think… to think you could love me.”_  
_“Leto I do--” Dorian’s words fell upon deaf ears. And he never saw the elf again._  
“Until now. No wonder he hates mages so much.”  
“I was young. I made a lot of mistakes. Leto was the only slave I got close to.”  
“Thank you for opening up to me Dorian.”  
“Oh shut up you great lummox. Let's rest some sleep so we can get home tomorrow.”  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
Fenris awoke the next morning to see Dorian over him tending to his wounds. He jumped back.  
“Stay away from me mage!”  
“I know we didn't part on good terms but please Leto let me heal you.”  
“Stop. Calling. Me. That.” Fenris growled.  
“Fine. Fenris. I know I hurt you. Please just let me keep you alive you can hate me later.”  
“You hurt me?” Fenris asked.  
“Le--Fenris, do you not remember?”  
“My first memory is the lyrium being burned into my flesh. Anything before that is blurry at best.”  
“Oh.” Iron Bull returned to his camp.  
“I've found the way back. We're not far.” Fenris started to get to his feet. It was now that Dorian realized he was barefoot.  
“You're going to freeze.”  
“I... I don't think I can walk...” Fenris said.  
“I'll carry you,” Iron Bull offered.  
“I'm not a damsel...” Iron Bull laughed.  
“No, you're not, but you're heavily injured and not wearing boots.” Fenris conceded. Iron Bull knelt down, gently scooping Fenris up in his arms. He held the elf close to his chest, and started down the path. They walked up the path to Skyhold, arriving just before noon. Inquisitor Evelynn was sitting outside watching Cullen training with his troops.  
“We we about to send out a search party for you, what happened?”  
“Is Hawke still here? We found one of her companions and had to care for him,” Dorian replied as Iron Bull took Fenris to the healers.  
“Yes, she's on the battlements with Varric. I'd bet Anders is there as well.” Evelynn replied.  
“He's not staying long I hope. He's making my troops uneasy,” Cullen said sitting beside her.  
“Relax Cullen, he isn't causing any trouble.”  
“The man blew up a chantry, Evelynn, he's dangerous.”  
“While I don't agree with his method, being a mage in a Free March circle I fully understand his intentions. Desperation makes us do irrational and awful things at times,” she replied. Cullen sighed.  
“I'd almost like to see him just for the spectacle. He's actually what Fereldans see my people like,” Dorian replied with a laugh.  
“He's only human Dorian. A broken man. It seems he just wants to help his fellow mages finish what he started. But you should go tell Hawke about her friend. Do you mind if I ask who you found?”  
“Fenris.” Evelynn nodded.  
“I thought as much. You should go tell him immediately. Hawke and Varric will want to see him.” Dorian took his leave and climbed the stairs to the battlements where he saw Varric, Hawke and Anders talking quietly.  
“Do you need something Dorian?” Varric asked.  
“Yes, Hawke, Iron Bull and I found Fenris injured on the mountainside.” Hawke stood up fast.  
“Is he all right?”  
“Yes, I tended to his wounds, and Bull carried him up the mountain. He's with the healers now.” Anders stood.  
“I'll go check on him.” As he walked away Varric turned to Hawke.  
“Strange world we live in. Fenris helping Anders. Anders helping Fenris. An actual Tevinter magister rescuing Fenris,” Varric trailed off.  
“I'm going to go see how he's doing,” Dorian said.  
“I’ll come with you,” Hawke replied. The two walked to the healers tents where Iron Bull was sitting at Fenris’ bedside regaling him with stories of the chargers. On his other side Anders was healing the rest of his wounds.  
“Easy Fen, I know it hurts. But I promise you'll feel better when I'm finished.”  
“Since when do you call him ‘Fen’?” Hawke asked. Anders turned bright red.  
“Shut up Hawke. Damned mage is useful and you're giving me a headache.”  
“I can make it worse. Merrill and Isabela are on their way.” Fenris groaned.  
“All right there are too many people crowding him. Dorian, you're a mage yes? Stay and help me keep an eye on him?”  
“Of course,” Dorian replied as Hawke and Bull left.  
“You. Magister. What was the nature of our relationship?”  
“You're a magister? You know Fenris?” Anders asked.  
“I knew him as Leto…”  
“So before… the lyrium.” Fenris growled.  
“Answer me magister.” Dorian sighed.  
“We were lovers.”  
“I loved a mage?” Dorian could see Anders’ eyes light up.  
“Yes. And you may not remember it but I owe you an apology for for my ignorance,” Dorian replied.  
“Well you saved my life. Your debt is far repaid.”  
“You loved a magister! “ Anders exclaimed.  
“I'm an altus not a magister.”  
“it's all the same to me. Before you say it mage fine I'm a hypocrite. I am fine now will you both leave me?” The two mages exited the tent.  
“So… Dorian. Are you… seeing anyone?”  
“Are you propositioning me?” Dorian asked almost laughing.  
“Does it bother you?”  
“Not at all. I can be quite charming.”  
“Oh what a coincidence, so can I,” Anders said with a smirk.  
“Let's have a drink. I need to speak speak to Iron Bull.” Dorian was starting to like the south.


	3. Settling into Skyhold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right I did the thing where I stopped writing. It may happen again. But here's another chapter? I might remember vaguely where I was going? (If this is garbage please feel free to tell me I'm okay with garbage)

The Herald's Rest roared as the sun set over Skyhold. Iron Bull perched in the corner, the Chargers laughing and drinking beside him. Dorian and Anders entered the tavern, Anders sitting beside Hakwe to update her on Fenris' health, while Dorian joined the Chargers in the corner.

“Dorian! Pull up a chair kadan!” Iron Bull roared as Dorian hovered over the hulking Qunari.

“Could we discuss something privately?” He asked quietly. Iron Bull was slightly stunned.

“Of course. Let's step outside.” The two walked around the tavern a lump in Bull's throat. He feared this day would come. A day where Dorian no longer wished to continue their... whatever it was. He'd told himself that he wouldn't mind and would simply return to how he was before Dorian, but faced with the idea of not sleeping beside him ever again made Bull's stomach turn.

“What's on your mind Dorian?” He asked in a forced even tone.

“I... I just wanted to clarify some things about the nature of our... relationship.” Iron Bull was sure it was exactly as he feared. His expression fell.

“You're ending it,” he said solemnly. Dorian nearly jumping grabbing Iron Bull's much larger hands.

“Of course not! Oh don't give me that look amatus! I was just curious if this was exclusive.” Iron Bull gently pulled away from Dorian, crossing his arms over his chest. There was something about this gesture that made Dorian want to drag him to bed and forget the whole thing.

“What are you getting at Dorian?” The mage sighed heavily.

“Well, with Le-- Fenris showing up and well... Anders...” Bull nodded looking over Dorian, thinking.

“Does this go both ways?” He asked.

“Wouldn't be fair if it didn't now would it?” Iron Bull laughed.

“So... the redhead in the tavern...” Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.

“Right. Women.”  
“If you're not comfortable with it...”

“It's not very fair for me to say you can't enjoy women because I don't,” Dorian said sighing.

“It's give and take kadan. If I'm being honest I have little interest in anyone but you right now anyway.” Dorian groaned and rolled his eyes.

“You're almost too much amatus.” Iron Bull smiled. Dorian stood on his tip-toes and planted a gentle kiss on the Qunari's lips.

“If you want to go after Fenris or Anders I don't mind... however...” Dorian now crossed his arms over his chest.

“I don't like 'however' Bull.”  
“You may have some competition.” Dorian laughed.

“Maybe we can work together.”

“You got Anders, I'll get Fenris?” Bull said extending his hand to Dorian. The mage took it.

“Are we terrible?” Dorian asked.

“Nah. Those two could use some fun.”  
“I think you're taking the harder job. Fenris is gonna be pretty difficult.”

“I like a challenge. I think I'll go check on the elf,” Iron Bull said heading toward the healers tents. Dorian stood admiring the view for a moment before returning to the tavern. Anders was sitting at the bar nursing a mug of Fereldan ale. Dorian sat beside him, the bartender pouring him a glass of wine before he could ask for anything.

“So I hear you're with the Qunari,” Anders said as Dorian sipped his wine.

“That isn't incorrect. But it also seems as though you and Fenris have something.” Anders blushed.

“It's complicated. But it doesn't matter.”  
“Then in this context, neither do myself and Bull's relationship,” Dorian replied. The bar roared around them. It was getting to Anders.

“Care to go for a walk, Dorian?” The two mages left the bar, finding themselves a quiet place to talk on the battlements, overlooking the surrounding mountains. Dorian felt a spark between them. Anders was disheveled, scarred, and quite a bit older than the altus, but Dorian found himself drawn to the former Grey Warden nonetheless.   
“You're a mage Dorian. You understand. Love can't last... not for a mage.” Dorian scoffed.

“Nonesense. In the south a mage has freedom now. I was compelled to leave Tevinter because I do understand. But not because I'm a mage. Being a man that enjoys the company of other men is unacceptable in Tevinter.” Anders looked slightly stunned.

“Unacceptable? Why?”  
“What? You thought Tevinter was perfect? No, I am seen as a failure because I cannot produce an heir.” The defeated look in Anders' eyes pained Dorian.  
“You're nearly as trapped as I was.”  
“Quite. It's still a gilded cage in a sense. Not to say I had a terrible life there. But it is difficult when your lover is in danger of being murdered by your own father.”

“I thought Tevinter was better...” Anders said looking out into the expansive mountains before him, “perhaps not perfect, but better...”  
“In some ways it is. But there are still its issues.”

“So it's just men for you?” Anders asked, eager to change the subject.  
“Only men. Women are... lovely. But not for me,” Dorian replied leaning against the battlement walls, facing toward Skyhold.

“I have enjoyed the company of women. But... I always find myself going back to men. The only people I can say I've loved are men... but that's such a dangerous thing... for a mage...” Dorian's eyes met Anders'. He slowly moved in closer to the older mage.

“The only thing you have to fear here is Corypheus. And Lady Trevelyan is doing everything in her power to hunt him down. You're safe here,” Dorian said his voice lowering until it was nearly a whisper. He was standing mere inches from Anders, their eyes locked. The blond mage stood unaffected, leaning in toward the slightly shorter man.

“Safe hm? She won't turn me over to the templars?” Dorian chuckled.

“Evelynn chose to protect the mages at Redcliffe. She grew up in a tower just like you. Everyone here wants to see the mages free men. You are a free man, Anders... however... this isn't exactly what I was hoping to discuss,” Dorian said slowly closing the gap between them.

“Oh?” Anders met him the rest of the way, their lips meeting in a soft, but reassuring kiss. Anders melted into the younger man, accepting his words that they were both free. As Dorian's lips caressed his, he couldn't recall a time where he hadn't been afraid. But here in Dorian's arms, everything was okay. As Dorian slowly pulled away, Anders fought himself from pulling him back in.

“You weren't wanting to talk were you Dorian?”  
“Perhaps not, but you are quite inspiring. There's a fire in your eyes, even if you look a little worn.” Anders laughed.

“I'm not as young as you are. Nor have I lived as easy a life.”   
“You've seen Iron Bull. I don't care.”  
“I'm easily ten years older than you.” Dorian scoffed.

“Are you trying to deter me?”

“You deserve to know what you're pursuing. I've spent most of my life abused at templar hands. I'm not so pretty to look at.” Dorian looked over Anders' face. His eyes were surrounded by dark rings, a large scar on his right cheek, and a dusting of stubble across his chin.

“I think you're rather handsome.”

“I'm a constant target. The fact that I'm here bothers most people,” Anders replied.

“The fact that _I'm_ here bothers most people.”  
“I'm just warning you... because I may fall in love with you.” Dorian stared up at the sky, thinking. He had never thought about having two men who loved him. The idea of one was astounding enough. But he wasn't going to cast Bull aside. If he could have them both, he would.

“As long as you don't mind sharing with Bull... Dangerous men have never frightened me.”   
“Then perhaps I could invite you to share a bed?”

“Aren't you forward.” Anders laughed nervously.

“Honestly I just like having someone to share a bed with. Nothing more.” Dorian smiled.

“I won't argue with that.” Dorian led Anders to his room, leaving it unlocked in case Bull decided to show up for the evening. The Tevinter mage snapped his fingers, igniting several candles in the room. Anders was slipping out of his robes, dressing down to his pants. Dorian stole glances as he did the same. It was at this moment Dorian began to understand the full extent of how southern mages were treated. His torso was covered in scars, clear indications of severe burns healed improperly all over his body. Dorian's eyes turned downward.

“I warned you. I thought you liked dangerous men, Dorian?”  
“The... extent of your pain... it's hard to imagine. All for being born with the gift of magic...” Anders sat down on the bed.

“That's just how it is... was. I hope for it to never be that way again... the way they still look at mages around Skyhold...” Anders started to loose control, his skin and eyes becoming alight from the fade spirit within him. Dorian gently rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I... I'm sorry. That... that was Justice.”  
“A spirit? That's... dangerous.”

“He's kept me alive. I'd have been captured and killed by templars by now if not for Justice. I promise he won't harm you.” Dorian finished undressing and joined Anders on the bed.

“You look as though you need rest.” Anders nodded, laying back on Dorian's lavish silk sheets. He couldn't recall ever feeling such comfortable fabric against his skin. When Dorian slid into bed beside him, Anders was almost certain he was dreaming. A bronzed hand slid across his chest as Dorian found a comfortable position beside him. Anders drifted off to sleep, realizing he was sharing a bed with a man he'd only met that morning. But somehow, he didn't mind.  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Iron Bull found his way to the healers tents, only a few people still gathered around. Fenris was sleeping soundly by himself. Bull sat on the ground inside the tent, watching the slow rise and fall of the elf's chest. His wounds were almost entirely healed, leaving only the smallest of scars on the worst of his injuries. Whatever healer worked on him was quite skilled. Evelynn ducked into the tent, seeing Iron Bull on the ground.

“Watching after Fenris?” She asked.

“Dorian has Anders' attention. Didn't want him to wake up alone.”   
“How sweet of you Bull. Well I was just coming to check on his wounds. Anders did a fantastic job. He should make a full recovery in a matter of days.” Iron Bull nodded.  
“Maybe he and Anders would fit in with the Chargers.” Evelynn raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps. I know Cullen is quite nervous about letting either of them be officially a part of the Inquisition... however, being a part of your company is an excellent loophole.”  
“I'll consider it boss. Get some rest.”  
“You too Bull.” It wasn't long after that when Fenris woke up. He started to sit up.

“I'm... where am I?” He asked no one. Iron Bull gently pushed him back down to bed.

“You're in Skyhold. Relax. Are you comfortable?”  
“I'm fine. Where is Anders?” Fenris asked.

“He was having a drink with Dorian.” Fenris hissed.

“Of course that damned mage can't keep his hands off a Tevinter--”  
“Calm yourself Fenris. I recall hearing you hated the mage that blew up the chantry.”   
“I spent years hating him. He was one of the first mages I was allowed to stand up to without being punished.... then I saw Meredith abuse her power... and gave him a chance to show me that mages could be redeemed. He took me to the Fereldan circle of mages. They still had templars... but as guardians, not captors. Young children would come to study, but were allowed to return home to see their families. Senior mages furthered research to help people. It was nothing like Tevinter.” Iron Bull listened as Fenris continued to talk about how he saw mages now compared to how he'd seen them while living in Tevinter, then Kirkwall. He remained quiet, only nodding in agreement, or urging Fenris to continue speaking. Bull knew this was what Fenris needed. The elf needed to pour out his thoughts and feelings, and he felt safe doing so to a Qunari. Fenris well knew the Qunari were good at listening. He was happy to take advantage of Iron Bull's particular skill at simply listening.

“... I've been talking all night.”   
“I'm good at helping people with what they need. You needed to vent. Do you feel better?”  
“I... I suppose I do.” Fenris turned to look at Bull. The sun was rising behind him.

“Good. Let's get you on your feet. I think a walk will do you some good.” The two walked the battlements, many of the Inquisition troops trying not to stare at Fenris. Iron Bull they'd gotten used to, but the elf covered in blue markings was a new one. Hawke was sitting in the courtyard having tea with Evelynn.

“Fenris! You're up!” Hawke rushed to see her friend. She stopped short of touching him. Iron Bull had been helping him walk all morning without incident. It only now occurred to Bull that most former slaves he had met did not like to be touched. Hawke looked surprised at how the elf was leaning against the Qunari, proving to Bull his assumption was correct.

“I am feeling much better.”  
“Have you seen Anders or Dorian?”   
“They were in the library quite early this morning. I would assume that they are both still there,” Evelynn replied as Hawke returned to her seat beside the Inquisitor.

“Thanks boss,” Iron Bull waved a hand as he led the elf toward the stairs.

“We're going to see the mages?” Iron Bull only nodded. Dorian was curled up in a chair as usual, sipping tea and pouring over a tome, while Anders was looking through shelves nearby. The Tevinter mage paid them no mind, but Anders instantly turned and rushed toward Fenris.

“Are you all right?”   
“I'm all right Anders. Thanks to you,” Fenris replied shifting his weight from Bull's shoulder to Anders'. The mage gently took Fenris in his arms and helped him into a nearby armchair. Bull leaned down pressing a gentle kiss to Dorian's temple. Now comfortable and safe, Fenris almost immediately fell asleep in the chair. Anders shook his head.

“I should speak with the Inquisitor about getting us proper beds. Fen doesn't sleep well on bedrolls anymore,” Anders said looking over the sleeping elf.

“You seem to care for him a great deal,” Iron Bull commented.

“He listened to me. And he didn't have to. Saved my life more than once.”   
“We can relate.” They sat in the library, Dorian studying, Anders reading, Iron Bull staring out the window for most of the morning. Fenris stirred and awoke again around lunchtime. After eating, Bull decided to see if Fenris could fight.

“All right, come at me. I can take whatever you give,” Bull said standing in front of Fenris.

“Careful what you offer Iron Bull.” The Qunari laughed as Fenris charged at him with full force. Bull took a strong hit to the chest, grabbing Fenris around the waist and taking him to the ground. The elf grunted.

“You left yourself open. Try again,” Bull said standing and offering a hand to him. Fenris took it and got to this feet. He closed his eyes, focusing. This time, he charged at Bull, but dashed behind him at the last second, tapping Bull on the back.

“Huh?” Bull turned sharply, seeing the elf smirking behind him, the two mages in stitches laughing on the ground. Before Bull could react, Fenris phased behind him again, this time earning Bull a sharp kick to the ass. He fell forward, catching himself and swiping his foot across the ground where Fenris stood. The elf hit the ground hard laughing.

“All right, you're pretty good. You're combat ready again,” Bull said helping him up.

“That's good to hear. Cause Hawke is leaving. And we have a party to go to,” Evelynn had joined them, dressed in her robes.

“You two are more than welcome to go with Hawke, however, I believe the Iron Bull wished to offer you an alternative.” Bull nodded.

“If you'd like to stay with the Inquisition, I'd like you to be a part of the Chargers. It pulls the heat of off Eve for allowing you to stay,” he explained.

“No one is going to question Bull.” He laughed.

“No one smart at least.”

“A party?” Anders asked.

“Yes. We're going to Orlais. I'm going to need a full compliment of guards and everyone important to the Inquisition. Empress Celene insists upon a masked ball.”

“Orleisans,” Dorian said rolling his eyes. Evelynn sighed.

“Orlesians,” she looked down, then turned back toward Fenris and Anders, “so, will you be staying?” The two looked at each other, and seemed to wordlessly come to an agreement.

“We'll stay,” Anders replied. Iron Bull laughed deeply.

“All right! Let's get you both somewhere to stay.”  
“There should be some rooms near yours and Dorian's,” Evelynn said as she was handed a missive by a nearby messenger. She read it and sighed.

“Well I'm off to put out more fires. We leave for Orlais tomorrow morning, Bull, I want the Chargers at the head of my escort. Dorian, you're welcome to join and... supervise,” She said with a wink as she left.

“I've never been to Orlais,” Fenris stated.

“It's shit. But it sounds like we get to crash an Orlesian party so that could be fun,” Dorian replied.

“That's the spirit Dorian! Come on now, let's go get these two armed and ready for tomorrow.”

 


End file.
